


The Price of Coffee

by joshlymanwalkandtalk (Joshlymanwalkandtalk)



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: 2008 Campaign Era (Crooked Media RPF), Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Iowa, M/M, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-12 08:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18442391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joshlymanwalkandtalk/pseuds/joshlymanwalkandtalk
Summary: How did Tommy and Lovett meet? On the campaign trail, bouncing around Iowa. The timelines are fudged, but the tropes are fun!





	The Price of Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [insunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/insunshine/gifts).



It's 6 am and Lovett has already been awake for too long. It's a schedule he's tired of and they're only in Iowa. He's in a Starbucks, the only place open in town at such an ungodly hour, waiting for his drink by the counter.

"Jon Lovett?"

Lovett's brows can't furrow any deeper than they already are and when he turns around eye to eye with a broad chest in a pale blue polo under a down L.L. Bean coat. He follows the line of buttons up to a pink and blonde face, grinning with a mischievous bent. He knows that face.

"I heard you're the guy that gave Favs, uh, Jon Favreau, an earful," the familiar man says with a smile.

Lovett scoffs and rolls his eyes. "You mean the guy that gets off on groping cardboard cutouts?"

Tommy blinks slowly, his brain visibly coming on line. "Listen-"

"No ‘listen.’ I don't care for _bros_ that find that kind of shit funny." Lovett looks him up and down and Tommy stands up straighter, shoulders going back. What a bro thing to do. He knew he should've assumed blind loyalty. "Especially the ones that make excuses for it."

"Hey!” Tommy exclaims, voice going high. “It was shitty! We can agree on that."

Lovett crosses his arms and speaks quieter, accusingly. "For all I know you took the picture."

"I wasn't even _there._" Lovett didn’t know Tommy’s voice could go any higher, but he’d rather it not get any louder. People are starting to stare.

"That's your excuse?"

Tommy takes a deep breath and releases a deep sigh. He has his hands up, palms out. He’s waiting for the deluge to stop. Tommy wishes.

“You and your ilk make my life hard every day,” Lovett says, raising his voice. He takes in Tommy’s tired eyes and the way his body is slowly melting from fatigue, shoulders slumping again. “Why should I let you off? I’ve already been up for two hours and I’m not going to be the only one to suffer for it.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Is this what it’s like?”

Lovett is caught off guard. “What?”

 

“Getting chewed out by you?” Tommy cocks his head.

“You should be so lucky,” Lovett says, realizing he’s hiding a smile. “You couldn’t handle it.”

Tommy grins, crooked. “Favs survived.”

Lovett scoffs and brushes a hand through the air. “An anomaly.”

Tommy laughs and extends his hand. “Tommy Vietor.”

Tommy’s laughter makes a small part in his chest feel warm, but he steadfastly ignores it. “I know who you are.” The venom in his voice has diluted, gone weak.

“Three-shot venti espresso on ice with vanilla!” comes the shout over the counter and they’re startled out of their conversation. When they look back at each other, Lovett forgets his scowl.

“For all your suffering,” Tommy smiles wider, chin up. “Next coffee’s on me.”

Lovett scoffs, but he looks down trying to hide a blush. “Good luck today, Vee-Tor,” he says, turning to put milk in his coffee. “You’re gonna need it.” He’s proud of how he breezes out of there, but he’s not proud of how the interaction affects the rest of the day.

 

+++++++++

 

He doesn't go to the same Starbucks to see if he'll run into Tommy again, it's just the closest place to the hotel. He's not looking for Tommy when he gets in line. But-

“Lovett.” That damn deep voice. It haunts him, knowing what it sounds like when he says his name. 

This time, when Lovett turns around, he knows to look up. “Are you here to buy me coffee?”

Tommy chokes on a laugh. “Yeah, I’ll buy you coffee.”

“Because you promised,” Lovett reminds him, wagging his finger up at Tommy’s chest.

Tommy’s face is pink. “I did.”

They’re quiet for a moment, waiting in line, Lovett standing in front of Tommy. He’s very conscious of Tommy looming over him, like he can feel the heat of his body radiating through his clothes.

“Headed out today?” Tommy asks and Lovett turns around.

“I’m not sharing campaign secrets.”

Tommy shrugs and shakes his head, grin still on his face, visibly delighted by every one of Lovett’s words. “We’re headed to Cedar Falls.”

“I know that. And you know we’re going to Cedar Rapids.”

They pause to order, Lovett getting a few extra pumps and shots on Tommy’s dime. When they step over to the side counter, they start right back up.

“You’re very defensive,” Tommy says, the struggle of trying to school his face into something resembling neutral playing out for all to see.

“It’s early,” Lovett frowns, trying to forget how each laugh from Tommy’s lips make him feel warm and tingly. Like a real accomplishment. “I’m always defensive in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Tommy asks with a raised eyebrow. “Until when?”

 

“Noon,” Lovett deadpans.

Tommy bursts out into laughter. Can’t seem to help it. “That fits my plan, then.”

Lovett cocks his head and narrows his eyes. “What plan?”

“To take you out to lunch,” Tommy says, smiling with beautiful, white teeth.

Lovett is stunned silent.

“Wow, I found the magic words.”

Lovett collects himself. “No man can resist the offer of free food.”

“Is that a yes?” Tommy’s face seems pinker. Maybe it’s wishful thinking.

The barista calls their names and they retrieve their drinks. Lovett tries to hide behind his, but they both know he has a question to answer.

“When are we in the same city again? Because I think you’ll be waiting a while.”

Tommy pulls a pen from his pocket. “Here’s my number.” He grabs a napkin to scribble it on. “Call me when we’re in the same city again.”

Lovett looks down at it and then back up at Tommy.

"Don't tell me you're surprised," Tommy smirks.

“You’re full of surprises, Thomas.” Lovett stuffs the number in his pocket and escapes with his free drink and not another word.

 

+++++++

 

Lovett keeps the number in the pocket of his laptop bag for a week before they’re both supposed to be in Iowa City, one leaving the next day, the other beginning their stay for the night. Lovett’s day is full, as it always is, so lunch is well off the table. He pulls the slip of tattered napkin out around dinner time, wondering what would happen if he called. Is it a real number? Is this a trick, getting back at him for chewing Favreau out? Would they both be waiting on the other end, ready to laugh? He stuffs it back in his bag and pretends to concentrate on the edits for Hillary’s events the next morning.

The itch won’t leave him alone the rest of the evening and when he finally gives in, he checks the time. No one is asleep at 9pm on a campaign. So he calls.

“Hello?” Professional. _Deep._

So it’s real. “Hey, it’s Lovett.” Lovett kicks himself for the feigned casual tone of his voice, the eager undercurrent, the fact that he called, the time that he called, and keeps kicking himself.

The line is quiet for a moment and Lovett believes he’s made a mistake, but Tommy speaks again. “I didn’t think you’d call.” Lovett can hear the smile in his voice. “I should’ve gotten your number instead. Unless that’s also a campaign secret.” Tommy laughs at the reminder of Lovett’s own joke. It’s flattering to be found so funny, especially so long after the fact.

“You have it now,” Lovett says because he doesn’t know what to say. This isn’t a joke. He was ready to throw barbs, but Tommy’s still just as sweet and puppyish as before. Lovett thinks, maybe, he’s… sincere. “Still wanna get lunch?”

Tommy laughs again. “Isn’t it a little late for lunch?”

“Fine, dinner.” It feels heavier to ask Tommy to dinner, but here they are. “Come have dinner with me.” After a moment he adds, “I need to get away from my computer for a while.”

Tommy’s quiet again, but when he speaks, Lovett swears he can hear a smile in his voice, just like before. “I’d like that. There’s a diner not far from the hotel we could go to. The Hamburg or something. We did an event there today, but I didn’t get to eat anything.”

“We’re going there tomorrow,” Lovett says, flopping back on his bed.

“We’re beating you in the Coffee Bean Caucus,” Tommy preens, pride dripping from his voice.

Lovett rolls to his stomach. “What the hell is that?”

 

“An adorable popularity contest that you’re losing. You’ll see.”

Lovett catches himself smiling and pauses. “Wait. How far from your hotel?”

“Five, six blocks?”

Lovett counts in his head. "Are you at the Sheraton?"

Tommy's guffaws. "Why?” His laughter dies down. “Are we staying at the same hotel?"

Lovett lets out a long breath and whispers to himself. "You can't make this stuff up."

Tommy’s voice sounds like a shrug. “Walk with me, then.”

“You don’t want to go separately? Make sure we’re not seen canoodling with the enemy?”

“We’re going out to dinner. Unless you’re wearing a disguise, we’re gonna be seen.”

“Fine, I’ll be down in 10. Unless you wanna ride the elevator together too.”

Tommy laughs and hangs up; Lovett wonders if he does anything but laugh.

 

++++++++

 

Tommy’s standing in the middle of the lobby when Lovett gets off the elevator. He’s tall, but his shoulders are hunched and his nose is buried in his BlackBerry. He’s so pale, he matches the blase hotel interior design. Just a Ralph Lauren model bathed in beige.

Then he turns around with that boyish smile--the one that probably got him laid on prom night--shining and Lovett realizes he would also let that smile get his clothes off pretty easily. He buries that thought with the all the others he thinks when he thinks of Tommy Vietor. Specifically, the ones where he's naked. There are a lot of those these days.

He feels Tommy’s eyes as they look him up and down and tries not to shiver in his unflattering and underprepared winter coat. Iowa is colder than he imagined and he’s only got himself to blame.

The snow sits in clumps around the sidewalk and the air is more than a little brisk, but the walk is a nice reprieve from cramped offices and vans, going nowhere but working all the time. Finally, a couple hours to himself away from the campaign and he goes to hang out with the enemy.

They don’t say much during the walk, too cold to waste breath on unbundled faces.

When they get to the diner and get a booth, the talking starts. And the debating. And possibly arguing. Lovett feels good. Loves the intensity of Tommy’s convictions and how fun it is to take them all apart.

“You guys can’t get the numbers,” Tommy exclaims. No one in the diner is phased. It’s as if all the political types coming in and out for weeks at a time has numbed the population from political arguments. “The caucus is in a week.” He gestures at the jars of coffee beans by the front door. The jar for Obama’s beans looms high above where Hillary’s sits. “You don’t have the numbers!”

“Fuck you,” Lovett counters, like it’s a salient point, but then continues. “The polls--”

Tommy throws his hands up. “The polls are bullshit this close and you know it.”

Lovett blows his lid. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Their bickering continues, volleyed between them with amusement plain on their faces. It feels natural, the kind of banter between friends, not across enemy lines. There’s a heat to it, but it’s playful. There’s a heat deep in the pit of his stomach too, but he’s able to keep it down and just enjoy the warmth of his company.

Until suddenly Lovett blurts, quieter, “Come back to my room with me.”

Tommy’s quiet for a shocked moment. “What? Are you serious?” Lovett stays silent and Tommy tips his head like a confused dog. “No,” he shakes his head, but his eyes go wide, like he can’t look away. Wouldn’t want to. “Are you suggesting I actually canoodle with the enemy?”

Lovett’s smile has a maniacal twist. “I definitely want to canoodle with you. If canoodling means I get to fuck you.” Lovett chuckles, like he’s shocked at his own boldness. Must be the exhaustion burrowing deep into his bones, chipping away at his sense of shame.

Tommy sits back against the booth dramatically and Lovett’s hope is fortified by the look on Tommy’s face. There’s a growing heat and deep red blush blossoming over his features. He wants this.

“Would you like that? Me fucking you?” His bravery is overflowing. He hopes no one is listening to their low voices.

Tommy giggles nervously and looks away. When he looks back, his face has gone serious, biting his smile from the inside of his cheek. “Yeah.”

Lovett is thankful for a longer coat because that goes straight to his dick. “Then let’s get going. Shall we?”

The walk back to the hotel is quiet, but they walk closely, bumping shoulders. When they do talk, it’s the same as before: heated quips and Tommy’s laughter.

“I’m glad you called,” Tommy says through a cloud.

“I bet you are,” Lovett smiles, his lips stretched tight in the dry cold.

The wait by the elevator is excruciating. Lovett tries to give Tommy space, but Tommy comes to stand right next to him. They’re quiet again and this time it lasts until they’re in the elevator. Tommy stands close, facing him and putting his hand on Lovett’s side below his ribs.

“We’re tempting fate by going back to my room together. We’re bound to get caught in here.”

“Not into that sort of thing?”

“Not into the professional ramifications.”

Tommy gives him space just in time for the doors to open.

They walk down the hall, take a right. 316. Lovett lets Tommy inside of his dark room. Before he's got the door closed, he's pinned to it. Tommy's face is close and the dark of the room only shows how pale Tommy's eyes are.

"This is good," Lovett chuckles, head pressed against the door. "But polls show you should get on the bed."

Tommy steps back, giving Lovett space to follow. "Back at it again with the polls?" Tommy smirks. 

They cross the room that way, as if they were lassoed together at the waist.

Lovett pushes Tommy to sit on the bed, coming to stand over him. He cradles Tommy’s face in his hands, and Tommy shivers when his thumb brushes his bottom lip. "This time, I'm sure they're accurate."

Tommy's mouth is slack when his hands come up to Lovett’s hips. Lovett grabs at Tommy’s shirt. “Get this off, I wanna see that hard body of yours.”

 

Tommy chuckles and takes his hands back to work on his shirt. He throws it behind Lovett with a grin. “Better?”

“Much,” Lovett says. “Now the pants.”

“You’re still fully clothed!”

 

Lovett huffs. “Fine.” He pulls his shirt over his head and throws it to join Tommy’s. “Now, get your pants off and scoot up the bed.”

Tommy groans, but lays back, lifting his hips to get his pants from under himself. He hisses as the fabric of the waistband drags across his erection, an erection that’s bigger than Lovett had previously clocked.

“I half expected there to be a jock under there,” Lovett says, motioning to Tommy’s underwear. Tommy frowns at him and throws his pants square in his chest. “What? Jock bro type? It was a possibility!”

Lovett stops smirking as soon as Tommy’s underwear comes off. That’s when Lovett decides he needs his mouth on his dick. It’s too nice not to--long, but not too fat. Enough to get a hand around. He drops to his knees and guides it between his lips. Tommy props himself up on his elbows and chokes on his shock. Lovett keeps his fist on it, following his mouth as he starts to bob.

“What the fuck, that’s good,” Tommy gasps. His hips are already twitching. Lovett is so proud of himself, he sucks harder and Tommy’s hips rise from the bed. He’s so, so proud.

“You can’t keep, ah,” Tommy’s concentrates on speech even as Lovett’s tongue tries to derail his words. “I won’t last long.” He’s staying on track. “You said you’d fuck me.”

Lovett strains his eyes to look up at Tommy. His fists are clenched at his sides, obviously desperate to hold onto Lovett’s head. Lovett wishes he would so he doesn’t have to stop to tell him. He pulls off with a smack of his lips. “You can touch me too. If you want.” 

"Please just fuck me," Tommy begs, extending his hands down to touch all of Lovett he can reach, "I wanna feel you inside me."

Tommy’s fingers brush his eyes brows and Lovett cocks a smile. "Been thinking about this much?"

"Yes," Tommy says without hesitation. "Been wondering when we'd be in the same city again."

Lovett strokes Tommy's dick until he whimpers. "And you thought I'd fuck you?"

Tommy nods, eyes large and pleading. "I hoped so."

"I guess," Lovett lets out a put-upon sigh. "I don't wanna disappoint."

Tommy flattens to the bed, arms out to the sides, a rush of air escaping his lungs on the soft landing. "Please."

Lovett shuffles off the bed and drops his pants and underwear to the floor. He goes to his suitcase to grab lube and a condom and then back on the bed. He spreads Tommy's knees and pours lube over his fingers, reaching down to circle Tommy's hole. It's like an electric shock goes through Tommy. His fingers clench on the bed and his toes curl.

"Please," Tommy whines again and Lovett pushes inside. All the air is knocked out of Tommy, his mouth a stretched “O”. Lovett takes his time working his finger in and out until he can fit another and another, all the while Tommy writhes on the starched hotel sheets.

"I'm ready," Tommy says with an airy voice. It still sounds like _please._

"Are you sure?" Lovett asks having just added a third finger, thrusting them deep enough to elicit a gasp.

"Yes," Tommy breathes.

Lovett sits back on his heels, looking down at the mess that is Tommy Vietor spread across his bed, spread open, ready and begging for Lovett to fuck him. He opens the condom, rolls it on, and positions himself over Tommy. He hooks Tommy's knees over his elbows, revealing his stretched hole clenching for him. Lovett feels his higher brain functions fry and turn to dust.

"Ready?" Lovett asks and Tommy nods as Lovett pushes his dick inside. Things become blurry for a second as Tommy moans loud enough to echo throughout the dim hotel room. He groans and repositions them into something he can more easily support, planting his hands onto the bed, framing Tommy's head and begins to move.

Tommy’s thighs are hitched up around Lovett’s hips, Lovett’s weight folding him in half. Lovett’s thrusting inside of him, smooth, faster. The little sounds falling from Tommy’s mouth with each thrust are strange when Lovett’s only ever heard that voice loud and deep. Lovett’s shoulders ache from holding himself up after all the writing, hunching himself over his computer 20 hours a day. He stretches his fingers against the bed and concentrates on Tommy’s face. It’s dark, but he can still see his dazed expression. He’s enjoying himself. He’s enjoying Lovett. Or at least what he’s doing to him.

“Feel good?” Lovett asks, voice rough.

“So good,” Tommy grunts. He puts a hand up against the headboard. “Keep going.”

Lovett’s brows knit at the command. “I was planning on it.” He snaps his hips harder, pushing out more delicate sounds from Tommy's throat. Tommy’s eyes close. His other hand, large and hot, comes to rest on the back of Lovett’s neck, weighing him down enough to bring Lovett’s face closer to his own. Lovett lets him, the warmth of Tommy’s breath heady between them.

“Can you,” Tommy chokes out, eyes still closed.

“What,” Lovett asks, breathless. He’s embarrassed at how winded he is already, but the way he feels inside of Tommy wins out. 

“Kiss me?” Tommy asks, opening his eyes. It’s small and vulnerable and hard to look into them.

Lovett doesn’t hesitate.

His kiss is slow and deep and it makes Tommy’s whole body go limp, submitting to everything Lovett's giving him. Lovett snaps his hips harder, Tommy’s hand going red with effort against the wooden headboard thankfully screwed in to the wall. The hand on Lovett’s neck tightens and Lovett goes limp briefly as well. It feels so good, like he fits. Like this is exactly where he needed to be tonight.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.” Lovett grunts. “You’re so tight.” He kisses the side of Tommy’s mouth and jaw. “Have you done this before?”

Tommy sounds mildly offended. “Yes!” he snaps, turning his head enough to pull away from Lovett’s kisses.

Lovett thrusts again, leaving Tommy moaning. “I guess I’ll have to finger you more next time.”

“Next time?” Tommy croaks.

Lovett shakes his head and tries to concentrate harder on the now. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Gotta make you come first.”

“I wanna come with you inside me. Can I-”

“Yeah,” Lovett groans, “I want that too.” He balances on one hand, using the other to take hold of Tommy's dick. He strokes a few times, not yet in time with his thrusts. "I wanna feel you come on my dick. Do it. Come on my dick."

Tommy grabs Lovett's fist, guiding him to the perfect rhythm. Locking eyes, it feels like a heavy weight attached between them. It’s like it’s tying them together, pulling down and bringing them closer. They jerk Tommy off like that, working with each other, not against. When Lovett’s hand holds him just so, Tommy lets go, leaving Lovett on his own. Lovett loves the feeling of a cock in his hand. It feels like triumph. Watching Tommy's eyes rolling back into his head at all the ways Lovett touches him, he knows he’s winning.

Tommy goes weak, his hand falling away when Lovett finds the speed and pressure. He doesn't last much longer, coming up his own chest with a broken moan. Lovett kisses him again, kisses him through it. He doesn’t stop kissing him as Tommy’s whole body goes limp. He trails his mouth down his slender neck.

He quickly goes from feeling something resembling tenderness to pistoning into Tommy, his mouth leaving a small, red mark on Tommy’s collarbone. Tommy moans with the pain of overwhelming pleasure, so sensitive and spent but still being used. Lovett can't get enough. It's intoxicating.

Lovett is deep inside when he comes and suddenly doesn’t move, just spills inside Tommy with stars bursting in his vision. It’s jarring to stop, to just be pushing in, in, in. Tommy’s knees are pressed into his chest and his wrist is going weak against the headboard. Lovett relaxes, forehead to Tommy’s chest, breathing hard. Tommy startles him with fingers threaded through his hair. Lovett enjoys it, lets it happen, and settles onto Tommy’s chest. He can feel Tommy’s heartbeat still racing and waits for it to slow.

“Lovett, can you...?” Tommy says, trailing off as he pets Lovett’s head.

Lovett sits up to look at him, realizing he’s still pinning Tommy into a pretzel. “Yeah, sorry.” Lovett pushes himself up on his hands again, the movement reminding him that he’s still inside Tommy’s tight body. “Is it okay if I..?” No one has the brain left to finish sentences, apparently.

Tommy nods and Lovett holds the condom as he pulls out. They both have matching groans as Lovett slides out. Lovett ties it in a knot and chucks it at the trash by the desk. Looking back at Tommy, what’s left of Tommy, is the biggest feeling of triumph of all. He’s a pile of limbs in the vague shape of a young man, face red, cock soft, hole…

Lovett shakes himself.

“I should probably…” Tommy runs through all the ways to end that sentence. “...get back to my room.”

“Yeah, that’d probably be a good idea.”

Lovett watches, detached, as Tommy searches around the room for all the clothes he threw off. Lovett’s head is already somewhere else, as if he’s watching from a distance. His mind is slipping away, already back in the work. As soon as Tommy leaves, he should get more work done, but he’s bone tired.

Tommy hops around, getting his pants on first, then his shirt--backwards, then right-- until he’s fully dressed standing by the door. Lovett feels exposed being… exposed, but he doesn’t shield himself. He’s got nothing to be ashamed up. He just dicked Tommy down good. Tommy should be grateful. Luckily, the blush on his face looks like he is.

“We leave for western Iowa tomorrow,” Tommy says with his hand on the door knob.

Lovett sits at the foot of the bed and lounges back. “You know where we’ll be tomorrow,” Lovett says with a smiles.

Tommy laughs, turns the knob, but still doesn’t open it. “Do I say thank you? Or just good night?”

Lovett feels his face go hot at Tommy’s eagerness and hopes his blush is hidden in the low light. “Good night is fine.”

“Good night, Lovett.”

“Good night, Vee-tor.”

Tommy shakes his head but doesn’t correct him. He hesitates once, still looking at Lovett, opens the door, and then slips out without a sound.

When the door clicks, Lovett flops back on the bed, resisting the urge to work. Luckily, it’s easy to ignore. He takes a deep breath, exhales, and then takes another, deeper breath. A couple free coffees and a bro to top. He pillows his head on his hands and grins at the ceiling. He needs to get up and shower, finish a few statements, answer some emails… but he’s going to savor the feeling of having a blissed out man on his cock and how dark and quiet his room is. Finally, a true moment to rest.

He convinces himself to shower, rinsing his body lazily before crawling back into bed. He’s sleepy enough that he barely makes it to the pillow before he falls asleep, dreaming about the endless halls of the White House.

When he wakes up, there’s a text message waiting for him.

“See you in New Hampshire.”

He smiles, but doesn’t answer.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it, insunshine!
> 
> Special thanks to my beta and writing partner. I never get things things done without you.


End file.
